Page 93 of Not Mine to Keep

“I may have checked the label on the ones you wear all the time,” he said casually once I was back on my feet. “You told me to blend in.”

“Apparently, you’ll still be standing out,” I whispered, unable to digest how he’d gone from businessman to cowboy in the blink of an eye.

“You look ...” He let go of my hand. “You’ll be standing out, too.”

“I would hope so since I’ll be onstage,” I teased. “Thank you for letting me come here. Keeping me safe so I can feel a little normal for the first time in a while.” I went ahead and shared what had been on my mind all day, but I’d yet to say because I was stubborn.

He frowned. “Keeping you safe is my job.”

“Right.”And buying the Dolly guitar and handpicking my ring was what?But I didn’t dare rock the boat and say those words aloud.

“Javier went ahead of us with two of his guys. Your equipment is there, waiting for you,” he said as I grabbed my brown suede purse, which had fringe that matched my boots.

“Oh, okay. Great.” I spun back around, and he was no longer in the doorway but right in my face. My free hand went to his chest.

Lowering his eyes to my hand, he asked in a husky tone, “Am I allowed to say good luck? Or is this a break-a-leg thing?”

I waited for him to look at my face again before smiling. “You can say whatever you want.”

“Can I? Anything?” He arched a brow, and why’d that feel like he was suggesting there was a lot more he wanted to share?

“As long as it’s cordial,” I said, opting to be a coward instead of pleading with him to tell me what I really wanted to hear: that I was more than just a job, a debt owed, and a chance at revenge for him.

“You don’t need luck. You’ll do great.” He took my standoffish cue and went with friendly, and I forced a polite nod of thanks and removed my hand from his chest.

We didn’t speak another word during the limo ride there. Imani and Nala, thankfully, filled the awkward silence by chatting. Pumping me up for the performance.

When the limo rolled to a stop at our destination, my heart landed in my throat, and my nerves took over—especially seeing Braden on the sidewalk, waiting with Britt.

Nala’s hand flew to the door handle. “Why’s she here?”

“Who is she?” Alessandro spoke for the first time, searching my face for an answer.

“Anex-friend.” My shoulders slumped, and at the sight of Javier now on the street with two of his men, Alessandro gave us the go-ahead to exit.

Outside, Alessandro stood alongside me and set his hand at my back as I confronted Braden and Britt.

“Hi.” Britt combed her fingers through her hair, her once-brown locks now the same shade as mine. “I came to support you. To make peace.”

“Give her a chance. Hear her out.” Had Braden lost it? Was he really ambushing me for some reunion twenty minutes before we were set to perform?

“You must be Braden,” Alessandro piped up in a clipped voice as Nala and Imani came to stand at my other side, having my back as well in this unexpected showdown.

“Youmust be the husband.” Braden did a quick inventory of Alessandro, right down to his boots, then flicked his attention back to me, letting both of us know he had as much interest in playing nice as Alessandro did with him.

“I don’t want you here,” I told Britt, scooching even closer to Alessandro. Right now, I needed my protector.

“Please.” Britt reached for me, but Nala outstretched her arm, motioning her to back off.

“You shouldn’t have let her come,” Nala said to Braden. “This is bullshit.”

“It’s a free country, and she was here when I showed up. I had no clue, but—”

“No,” I cut Braden off. “I’m not making peace now, or after. I’m going inside to play, and then I’m leaving.” I stepped forward, and Alessandro took that step right along with me, letting me handle myself, but I knew he’d intervene if needed. “You pissed away our friendship when you slept with my boyfriend. You hurt me a thousand times more than Dylan did, and I’ll never forgive you.” I pointed my focus on Braden next. “You want to forgive her, that’s your choice. But don’t ever corner me like this again, or you can kiss what’s left of our friendship goodbye, too.” With tears in my eyes about to test my waterproof mascara for the second time today, I sidestepped them both and started for the bar, following Javier in with Alessandro behind me.

Once inside, seeing my guitar and keyboard on the stage, I maneuvered around people talking and milling about to get there.

I went to brush away a tear, but Alessandro snatched my wrist and pulled me over to the side of the stage. “You okay?” he asked, still holding me. The lighting was moody and dim, but I could make out the concern in his eyes.

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